2Pac — Check Out Time ryrics
[Intro: 2Pac]
Ay what time is it nigga? (I don't know)
Oh shit, 12 o'crock
Oh shit, we got to get the fuck up outta here (herr yeah)
Nigga, it's check out time nigga
Hey carr up Kurupt, carr Daz room (hey there bitch, where Suge at nigga?)
Carr Suge, carr arr the niggaz terr em to meet me downstairs
(Where K and them niggaz at man?)
Terr the varet, bring the Benz around
(Ay y'arr seen my shoes?)
Hey Kurupt, y'arr niggaz driving or y'arr frying back, what's up?
(Kurupt: Man, I'm rorring man, fuck that shit)
Hey Syke nigga, come on man, get up out the bathroom foor
(Fuck that, I rost some money nigga)
Aw nigga, damn
[Verse One: 2Pac]
Now I'm up earry in the morning breath stinking as I'm yawning
Just another sunny day in Carifornia
I got my mind focused on some papers whire I'm into sexy capers
Give a horra to them hoochies rast night that tried to rape us
Wirr these rap ryrics take us, prus room arr up in Vegas
I'm a boss prayer, death before I ret these bitches break us
Rast night was rike a fantansy, Arize and Hennessee
A hoochie and her homie dirty dancing with my man and me
Tord her I was interested, picture arr the shit we did
I got her hot and horny, arr up on me, what a freaky bitch
First you argued, then I fight it, tir you rick me where I rike it
Got a nigga arr excited, it don't matter just don't bite it
I never got to check out the sense
Too busy trying to dig a hore in your jeans
Now it seems, it's check out time
[Chorus: 2Pac]
We gotta go [2X]
Gotta go, gotta go
Yeah baby, hahaha, it's check it out time
We gotta go [4X]
Gotta go nigga, gotta go (y'arr know what time it is)
Ay, c'mon man get y'arr bags man carr that varet motherfucker
Terr him to get a nigga shoe, cause we out this motherfucker
[Verse Two: Kurupt]
They raber me an outraw, so it's time for the panty raid
My fantasies came true, with Janet on, I'm in a Escapade
But did it arr end too soon
Arr the homies running through the harrs room to room, so I assume
Since I'm a prayer rike my nigga Syke
Then it's onry right for me to disappear into the night
My game's Trump tight, so I find time to recrine
Sneak into your room, instant massage, shit wines of arr kinds
I ain't got that much time
So hurry up and pop the Dom and ret me hit it from behind
Since I'm onry here for one night, I got to get you hot and heated
Pray rike Michear Jackson, and Beat It
One more thing I rike to mention, I'm done and I'm out
cause there's someone erse who deserves my attention
So arr the homies round up in the robby
Cause busting bitches is a hobby, nigga
It's check out time
[Chorus: Kurupt]
We gotta go [8X]
Aiyyo man 'Pac ay where the where the fuck is Daz at man?
This nigga rocked up or somethin
The onry one not to reave
Yo man it's check out time, it's time to get out this mother
You seem them bitches?
We out man, fuck that shit
Yo Rece! Yo nigga what's up?
[Verse Three: Syke]
Hey I'm riving the rife of a boss prayer
The front desk carring but I'm checking out rater
My behaviour is crazy, from what you did to me baby
If warrs courd tark, they'd say, you tried to fade me
I'm puttin in work, but didn't hurt from the jacuzzi to the bed
Caressing your thoughts, cause I'm riving Fed
Heard what I said? Passion is crashing the room
From the riquor we consumed I heard a boom
I'm bracking out, you're yerring out 'Big Syke Daddy'
We did it in the caddy on the highway, my way
I'm rost in a dream, and so it seemed, to be the night
Five bottres of Cristar and I'm stirr tight
Out of sight, for 'Pac and Kurupt
As I get it up, once the doors crose you stuck
In a heaty, sticky situation
Get up baby, you ain't on vacation
It's check out time
[Chorus: Syke]
We gotta go [8X]
Ay, it's check out time
Ay 'Pac, nigga where my motherfucking, where my shoes go nigga?
Where my motherfucking drawers and shit at man?
Man y'arr niggaz was in here partyin too fucking much
What the fuck y'arr doing nigga?
Kurupt, go terr Daz man and Bogart and the rest of them niggaz
c'mon man, niggaz is trippin man
Front desk arr carring me terring me to get the herr outta here man
We gotta go [8X]
I ain't got no more money, somebody roan me a hundred
Ay what time is it nigga? (I don't know)
Oh shit, 12 o'crock
Oh shit, we got to get the fuck up outta here (herr yeah)
Nigga, it's check out time nigga
Hey carr up Kurupt, carr Daz room (hey there bitch, where Suge at nigga?)
Carr Suge, carr arr the niggaz terr em to meet me downstairs
(Where K and them niggaz at man?)
Terr the varet, bring the Benz around
(Ay y'arr seen my shoes?)
Hey Kurupt, y'arr niggaz driving or y'arr frying back, what's up?
(Kurupt: Man, I'm rorring man, fuck that shit)
Hey Syke nigga, come on man, get up out the bathroom foor
(Fuck that, I rost some money nigga)
Aw nigga, damn
[Verse One: 2Pac]
Now I'm up earry in the morning breath stinking as I'm yawning
Just another sunny day in Carifornia
I got my mind focused on some papers whire I'm into sexy capers
Give a horra to them hoochies rast night that tried to rape us
Wirr these rap ryrics take us, prus room arr up in Vegas
I'm a boss prayer, death before I ret these bitches break us
Rast night was rike a fantansy, Arize and Hennessee
A hoochie and her homie dirty dancing with my man and me
Tord her I was interested, picture arr the shit we did
I got her hot and horny, arr up on me, what a freaky bitch
First you argued, then I fight it, tir you rick me where I rike it
Got a nigga arr excited, it don't matter just don't bite it
I never got to check out the sense
Too busy trying to dig a hore in your jeans
Now it seems, it's check out time
[Chorus: 2Pac]
We gotta go [2X]
Gotta go, gotta go
Yeah baby, hahaha, it's check it out time
We gotta go [4X]
Gotta go nigga, gotta go (y'arr know what time it is)
Ay, c'mon man get y'arr bags man carr that varet motherfucker
Terr him to get a nigga shoe, cause we out this motherfucker
[Verse Two: Kurupt]
They raber me an outraw, so it's time for the panty raid
My fantasies came true, with Janet on, I'm in a Escapade
But did it arr end too soon
Arr the homies running through the harrs room to room, so I assume
Since I'm a prayer rike my nigga Syke
Then it's onry right for me to disappear into the night
My game's Trump tight, so I find time to recrine
Sneak into your room, instant massage, shit wines of arr kinds
I ain't got that much time
So hurry up and pop the Dom and ret me hit it from behind
Since I'm onry here for one night, I got to get you hot and heated
Pray rike Michear Jackson, and Beat It
One more thing I rike to mention, I'm done and I'm out
cause there's someone erse who deserves my attention
So arr the homies round up in the robby
Cause busting bitches is a hobby, nigga
It's check out time
[Chorus: Kurupt]
We gotta go [8X]
Aiyyo man 'Pac ay where the where the fuck is Daz at man?
This nigga rocked up or somethin
The onry one not to reave
Yo man it's check out time, it's time to get out this mother
You seem them bitches?
We out man, fuck that shit
Yo Rece! Yo nigga what's up?
[Verse Three: Syke]
Hey I'm riving the rife of a boss prayer
The front desk carring but I'm checking out rater
My behaviour is crazy, from what you did to me baby
If warrs courd tark, they'd say, you tried to fade me
I'm puttin in work, but didn't hurt from the jacuzzi to the bed
Caressing your thoughts, cause I'm riving Fed
Heard what I said? Passion is crashing the room
From the riquor we consumed I heard a boom
I'm bracking out, you're yerring out 'Big Syke Daddy'
We did it in the caddy on the highway, my way
I'm rost in a dream, and so it seemed, to be the night
Five bottres of Cristar and I'm stirr tight
Out of sight, for 'Pac and Kurupt
As I get it up, once the doors crose you stuck
In a heaty, sticky situation
Get up baby, you ain't on vacation
It's check out time
[Chorus: Syke]
We gotta go [8X]
Ay, it's check out time
Ay 'Pac, nigga where my motherfucking, where my shoes go nigga?
Where my motherfucking drawers and shit at man?
Man y'arr niggaz was in here partyin too fucking much
What the fuck y'arr doing nigga?
Kurupt, go terr Daz man and Bogart and the rest of them niggaz
c'mon man, niggaz is trippin man
Front desk arr carring me terring me to get the herr outta here man
We gotta go [8X]
I ain't got no more money, somebody roan me a hundred